


Get Used to It

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones
Genre: Bondage, Established Relationship, Fear, M/M, Post-Movie, Prosthesis, Recovery, Sensation Play, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin helps Obi-Wan get used to his new hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Used to It

**Author's Note:**

> Several years ago, I had been musing in chat with Epeeblade about Anakin's hand in AotC, and it led to porn. Recently re-edited for posting.

"You will get used to it, Master," Anakin said, smiling a quick flash of gentle amusement as he checked the tight cuffs restraining Obi-Wan's wrists. "Just be still."

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath, watching as his taut stomach rose with the movement. His shoulders ached as he moved to look down, to watch as Anakin's perfectly formed hand followed an invisible line up his stomach, as though chasing the air under the skin to up his throat. The touch was so light, he could barely feel it. It was familiar, intimately so; a touch that he would know for a thousand years to come. The feel of Anakin's skin was as ingrained in Obi-Wan's soul as his personal connection with the Force. No, even more so--he would forget how to touch the Force before he would ever forget Anakin's touch.

The fingers touched ever so lightly the edge of his beard. He could feel the heat in the fingers before they made contact. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. Almost ticklish as fingers move over the curling hairs at his jaw, near his chin, over his lip. He opened his mouth to the touch, puffing hot air over the fingers, encouraging them to enter with a light lapping of his tongue. They pulled away quickly.

Obi-Wan moved to grab them back, but his hands were tied securely to the bed, preventing all movement, holding him stretched out and steady for whatever his lover had in store for him.

Obi-Wan settled, relaxing as he waited for the fingers to return.

A small tap on his nose. Then a wave of motion against the curve of his ear, almost like a whispered breath but too solid to be just air. Another against his side, tickling this time on purpose. Obi-Wan smiled broadly, keeping his eyes closed as he waited for the next touch, luxuriating in the pleasant anticipation.

The arch of his foot. His left nipple. A brush against his erection too brief to be anywhere near the real friction he craved. His throat. Right knee. Left elbow. Touches that were always moving too quickly, a brush or a tickle or a long, light caress staying no longer than necessary to make Obi-Wan sure the touch was there before it moved on. It seemed that Anakin was working to create a catalog of his anatomy, touching everywhere available. And with his Master nude and bound, there was plenty of body for him to touch.

Anakin's whole hand settled on Obi-Wan's stomach, palm covering the fold of his navel. The sudden and complete contact was startling after so much teasing. Senses tuned to the light ghost of sensation tingled and jumped with the overload of that total contact, making Obi-Wan shudder full-bodied. A noise escaped his lips, nonsensical and airy with his hitching breath.

The heat of Anakin's hand spread out over Obi-Wan's body, bringing a blush to his skin that crackled over his senses like electricity dancing over his flesh. In that single hand there was so much of Anakin; Obi-Wan could sense his presence in the Force, burning brightly towards him, and the young man's strength fairly radiated from his touch. The power in that single hand...

It could bring so much destruction if wielded with anger, and yet in love it could bring so much pleasure, so much connection between them that at times Obi-Wan worried they were becoming too close, melded into a single being at these moments of intimacy and barely separated when not making love. It was frightening, how close they were becoming. Frightening, and yet inevitable.

Like a kneading cat, Anakin's hand worked the flesh of Obi-Wan's belly, rubbing with the tips of his fingers, then flattening his palm over the muscles, hand clenching rhythmically. At times floating above, other times pressing down hard--yet never losing contact with his flesh. Skin-to-skin, just this most simple of touches, and Obi-Wan was almost undone by the intimacy of it.

The movements slowed, encouraging Obi-Wan to relax further, to let the feelings flow through is body like a current towards the point of contact. When they finally stopped, Obi-Wan had his breathing under control, his entire form concentrated on that one spot of connection, everything tuned into Anakin.

Slowly, as though reluctant, Anakin removed his hand from Obi-Wan's stomach, the final contact the soft brush of nails, a light scratch of feeling.

"You will get used to it, Master." Anakin's voice was rough, his breath heavy around his words.

Again, the light touch, almost but not quite THERE on his stomach. Obi-Wan sucked in a deep breath, whistling it through his lips as he moved to meet the fingers dancing over his flesh. They moved away, all touch withheld until Obi-Wan settled, allowed Anakin full reign of his body.

Again, the bare brush of fingers. No heat to mark their arrival, just the sudden contrast of being Not There and then There. It was a different touch, one that was smooth, cool. The tips of fingers ran over his skin.

This was not Anakin. He did not know this touch.

The digits clicked together, a lifeless noise reminiscent of destroyer droids walking down a corridor, metal parts touching metal parts. Click. Click. Click.

The shock of it opened Obi-Wan's eyes, the stab of light painful as he strained to sit upwards, to defend himself against this unwanted touch.

Hovering over his stomach was a spider's claw of silvery gold metal. Visible wires only added to the mechanical appearance. Fashioned to mimic human skeletal structure, it did the job of a hand but looked nothing like it.

Stunned by the difference, Obi-Wan struggled in his bonds, trying to move back away from the hand that had nothing of his Padawan in it. It was irrational, a reaction of a second that he had under control before most people would have caught it.

But Anakin was by no means "most people." He saw the movements and could read Obi-Wan's eyes, no matter how well his Master collected himself. Obi-Wan was never able to hide things from Anakin, even when it was for the best for both of them.

"Anakin, I'm--"

Cool, smooth metal against his lip. Pressing enough to keep him from talking, but not enough to bruise or harm the sensitive flesh. There was no sensing through that metal for Anakin, not yet at least. It would take months of careful training and delicate electronic modeling to build back his full range of senses through the false bones of his new arm. Right now, Anakin could break Obi-Wan's jaw or caress his lips, as much as he would feel either sensation.

Anakin moved his finger against Obi-Wan's bottom lip, the metallic digit gliding smoothly over Obi-Wan's skin. It was a different sensation, not as familiar as skin, disturbing in its distance from his lover's true self. He couldn't sense Anakin within this limb. It was as though he stopped at his shoulder, everything backed up behind the cup that marked where flesh ended and metal began.

Anakin lightly pressed on Obi-Wan's lip, pulling it down a little before letting it snap back over his teeth, showing perfect control. But Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to welcome the touch just yet, to open his mouth to the invader.

It wasn't a matter of trust. Obi-Wan trusted Anakin implicitly. It was the false limb that he did not trust.

Anakin removed his finger at last, his dark eyes sad, but confident. He reached out and smoothed back Obi-Wan's hair, the fingers clacking together as they moved through the short hair. He lingered over the fall of hair through the metal fingers, Obi-Wan's scalp tingling from the moving strands. Obi-Wan watched Anakin's face, witnessing the shifting of emotions, his face going from detached to sad to loving as the young man forgot to hide his feelings, revealing his true emotions at last.

"I can't feel you," Anakin spoke, almost to himself, "but I know you are there. I can see me touching you, like I've touched you a hundred times before. I know how your hair feels." Another handful, slowly falling through open fingers like sand. "Like... like water. Smooth. Cool at the ends, but so warm near your skin."

Anakin sighed, a sound that held much sadness and longing inside it. His fingers moved carefully down Obi-Wan's face, not quite touching his skin. A nothing feeling. Lightly, like a med-droid checking his temperature, Anakin's false fingers rested on Obi-Wan's chest, smoothly rolling down to his belly in a long, careful pet.

"Oh, your skin..." breathed out like a long, soulful whine of need. "I know what it feels like, Obi-Wan. Like a cool shadow after a sandstorm. Like fresh tunics after a hard training session. As familiar as my 'saber, like you were made for my hands." He swallowed hard, his throat jumping as his eyes closed. "My hand."

The metal fingers on Obi-Wan's stomach jumped as well, gliding over his skin to close together with a clack. Obi-Wan couldn't keep from jumping at the noise, feeling a flash of shame as he looked down to assure himself that Anakin hadn't damaged him accidentally. But the fingers were closed in a harmless fist, hovering over Obi-Wan's stomach, no longer touching skin.

Obi-Wan's eyes returned to Anakin's face in time to see the dark lashes flutter, his eyes opening again. "I'll never be able to touch you like I did before. But I am still here. We're both still alive. And I'm not going to let something as small as this get in my way."

His fist opened with a vague whine of gears. He placed the fingers around Obi-Wan's neck, just barely touching his skin. "I will never touch you like I did before, but I can still touch you." The fingers relaxed, fanning out to cover as much skin as possible as Anakin moved his hand down Obi-Wan's chest.

The touch was cool. Not cold like a droid, but too cool for a human. Even after touching Obi-Wan's skin for so long, even after spending all day wrapped in the warm cloth of a cloak, the metal was still too cool to be mistaken for anything other than metal. It glided smoothly over his chest, without the pleasant friction of skin on skin.

Obi-Wan watched the movement, fighting down his revulsion. Words like "fake" and "false" and "counterfeit" came to his mind, conjuring ideas of trickery, of deceit and mistrust. Metal fingers circled his nipple, running over it with smooth, inhuman touch. Inhuman but not impersonal; they played there, teasing the bump of flesh into a more sensitive awareness, bringing out welcome from the body when the mind still fought to accept the touch.

Obi-Wan's gaze moved up the false arm, seeing all the wires and connection and parts that made up the model of a human skeleton. The wide range of movement required for a Jedi meant that the construction of the arm would be more complex than that of a simple droid or the average prosthetic. Obi-Wan had to admire the delicate craftsmanship. Anakin was already working at increasing the viability of the limb more adeptly than the experts at the Temple. He had adapted to his new limb, and will continue to adapt as he slowly regains his normal functioning. It truly was a remarkable piece of machinery. Even the elbow joint was carefully articulated to allow the exact range of movement a flexible Jedi could expect. 'Within a few weeks, Anakin will probably find a way to improve that,' Obi-Wan thought fondly.

A metal cup covered the site of the injury. No scars are visible on the pale flesh; Count Dooku's lightsaber cut cleanly through the arm, cauterizing as it seared away the lower half of his limb. Only a slight puckering could be seen where the metal fused with flesh, where Anakin the Man met Anakin the Machine. It was an uneasy joining, but with time it would all fade, and this awkwardness--this fear--would be but a memory.

'Yes,' Obi-Wan reflected, 'fear.' He feared for Anakin, and the reminders of his mortality. The life of a Jedi is not an easy one; a Jedi lives with the knowledge that all things die, and often die much too soon. That was why attachments were so forbidden by the Code. It had hurt more than pain to see Qui-Gon die, and Obi-Wan feared that the loss of Anakin, who meant more to him than his Master, would leave him utterly destroyed.

 _/There is no death, there is the Force./_

Obi-Wan was afraid, but not of Anakin. Not of his new hand. He understood that now. He accepted his feeling. Observed it. Allowed himself to feel it fully, and then he allowed it to pass through him. He did not need the fear anymore.

Obi-Wan met Anakin's eyes, and allowed his lover to feel what he had felt. Dropping every wall, he showed his feelings completely; his unnecessary fear, his love for his student and friend, and his desire for his lover. All of his lover.

Anakin's hand was still petting down his chest, and this time, Obi-Wan let himself feel it. He welcomed the odd sensation of metal rolling down his skin. It was a part of Anakin, and therefore it was something he loved, completely.

The rhythm was hypnotic, steady and sure. Not as soft as the whispered touches that started this night, but not a harmful pressure. Just the perfect amount of presence, to let Obi-Wan know that Anakin was there, and that he wanted him. Relaxing, Obi-Wan stretched up into the touch, displaying more skin for Anakin to touch.

It felt good, not hot but not cold, just... there. Over his stomach, tickling at the bump of hipbone before tracing the crease of his leg. Obi-Wan held Anakin's eyes.

When cool metal closed around his penis, Obi-Wan twitched. Not away from it, but into the touch, unsure whether to move or to stay still and let Anakin lead. The fingers moved in a wave down his skin, tapping over his flesh. Obi-Wan jumped at that, the odd movement squeezing a groan from his throat.

It was...unfamiliar, yes, but arousing. Anakin repeated it, the movement like a wave of muscle against his erection. Obi-Wan gasped, then bucked. Anakin put his fingers of his hand--his real hand--inside his mouth, biting down on the pale fingers as he began moving over Obi-Wan's erection. Anakin watched his hand--his mechanical hand--squeeze and tease his lover's penis as though it were the first time.

With a grunt, Obi-Wan orgasmed into that mechanical grip, his gaze concentrated on his lover. Anakin jerked his hand a few more times before letting go. Even as Obi-Wan gathered his breath, Anakin was swooping in to steal it again with a searing kiss. Obi-Wan kissed him sloppily, fighting between wanting air and wanting to taste his lover.

Anakin brought up both hands into his hair to hold his face, to move him so he could best lap at his mouth, the metal knocking thickly against his scalp. The fingers were hot-warm, all ten of them, as they rubbed through his hair, making him feel sticky and soothed at the same time.

Anakin straddled one of Obi-Wan's thighs, pressing his erection into the dip between hip and leg. He bared down hard, chafing himself against Obi-Wan's leg as he devoured his mouth. Obi-Wan tried to move, to hold Anakin as the man had held him, but his lover made no move to help him out of his restraints. Anakin set a fast tempo, bringing himself off quickly. Afterwards, he moved down Obi-Wan's throat to rest across his chest, his arms stretched out to cover Obi-Wan's upstretched arms.

Obi-Wan turned his head to see a metal finger tap gently against his wrist, just below the cuff that held him down on the bed. He didn't feel that familiar revulsion inside at seeing metal so close to flesh. He didn't cringe with sympathy at the pain he imagined Anakin still felt. It...wasn't exactly Anakin, but it was part of him now.

"I'll get used to it," he whispered to Anakin.

He thought the younger man might have been napping, but he responded with an enthusiastic, "Just wait until you see the attachments! I have plans for this baby..." Evening-blue eyes looked down at him with excited amusement.

Obi-Wan laughed lightly. Anakin still smiled down at him. "You're just kidding about the attachments, right?"

No answer.

"Right?"

"Don't worry, Master, you'll get used to it. I'm just getting started."


End file.
